


beach day

by greatthislldo



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon what is canon, F/F, lotta fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatthislldo/pseuds/greatthislldo
Summary: Ymir and Historia have a nice day at the beach
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	beach day

**Author's Note:**

> escapism at its finest  
> such fluff  
> hope its not too out of character

The tendrils of ivy, the wild blackberries still red on the vines, the bright green leaves were all left behind as the soil gave way to finer sand. She climbed up higher, the shade of the woods lessening, the cool green opening up into a warm brightness. The old wooden steps creaked with every footfall, sand leaking out of the corners, and Historia knew if she touched the wooden railing she would be pulling out a splinter. The steps themselves gave the appearance of driftwood having floated over the dunes, tossed in the sand like a child playing pick up sticks.

Historia swung the basket in her hand, tilting her head up to look at the cloudless sky, the sun shining bright over the tip of the dune. A retreating back, with chairs strapped to it, disappeared over the top, and she stuck her tongue out, knowing that the figure ahead couldn’t see it, but feeling satisfied nevertheless. Up the steps she went.

The grass swept back and forth, a rhythm known only to the wind. It was thin, a sharp grass, grass that could slice an unprotected ankle. It swayed. A seagull wheeled overhead, a shadow flitting across the sand. 

The wooden stairs drew to an end, and her sandal made a soft impression on the sand instead. Not a clearly defined footstep, but a divot. 

She crested the dune.

Lake Michigan spread out in front of her, one long never-ending blanket, flatter than the blanket Historia could see her companion desperately trying to lay out on the undulating sand in the distance. The water sparkled gleefully, the sun winking off of the waves. A flock of sand pipers ran from a rush of water, their tiny legs flicking sand. 

Historia walked slowly down the shallow incline, her sandals slipping in the sand. The sand poured into her shoes, and warmth flooded over her feet, almost too warm, almost burning. Still, she took her time, quietly watching the tanned figure struggling to pop open the umbrella. It unfurled with a snap, and Historia had to stifle her laughter at the quick jerking back in surprise. Historia wasn’t close enough to make out her facial expression, but she could imagine the brief widening of golden eyes followed by a quick narrowing and glare to preserve dignity. 

The umbrella was firmly planted in the ground and the woman was lounging in a lawn chair by the time Historia set down her picnic basket on the colorful blanket.

“What took you so long?” Ymir leaned back in her chair, as if she hadn’t opened it thirty-seconds ago.

Historia ducked under the shade to flop down on the blanket. She kicked off her sandals. “Oh, you know, enjoying the view, the blackberries, just the journey.” She swept her hand out vaguely. 

“What about the destination?” The question was said in a very noncommittal tone, but Historia knew better. 

“Not bad.” 

Ymir huffed, turning away from Historia’s gaze to look at the lake instead. Historia tried not to laugh. It was just so easy sometimes. She relented; Ymir did insist on carrying all the stuff here, she supposed. 

Historia propped herself up on her elbows. “You’ve got a nice setup here.” 

The edge of a grin lit up Ymir’s face. “That’s more like it.” She jumped out of the chair, having sat in it for about a minute, and then leaned over Historia, offering her hand. 

Historia had been reaching for a book placed on the edge of the blanket, but with the enthusiasm thrust into her face, she sighed and changed the trajectory of her hand. Ymir pulled Historia up, and Historia relished the way their hands fit together so nicely. Ymir’s hand was warm and dry, sand already having made its sneaky way underneath her fingernails. 

“This is a beach day,” proclaimed Ymir. “We are going to live it up!”

“Is reading on the sand not living it up?” 

Ymir shook her head. “Please stop reminding me of your tragic life. Today is a day of fun!” 

Historia was about to protest that reading was, in fact, fun, but she realized that she actually didn’t care, because Ymir was in motion and Historia’s thoughts went blank. 

Ymir was taking off her shirt, wearing a black bikini top underneath. Historia gazed at her toned abs, the freckles dotting the tanned skin of her stomach, the muscles rippling as - Ymir was laughing at her. Historia felt color come to her cheeks, and took off her light sundress, revealing her own even more revealing bikini, and Ymir stopped mid-laugh, jaw hanging open, before closing it quickly with a light blush. 

“You’d better sunscreen,” said Ymir. “Looking pretty pale.” 

“You could’ve stopped before the word pale,” grumbled Historia, already squirting out lotion from a tube that she was pretty sure hadn’t been used since last spring. “Can you do my back?” 

Ymir grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

“Spread it evenly this time,” Historia warned. “If I wake up tomorrow morning and see a drawn on dick in the mirror, there will be hell to pay.” 

Ymir nodded resolutely. “Of course, your majesty.” She paused a beat, slathering on sunscreen, and then grumbled, “I can’t believe you think I have the emotional maturity level of Connie.” 

“You don’t?” 

“Never,” said Ymir, the venom in her voice surprising Historia, until she added, “I would draw something tasteful. A flower. An ice cream cone. A heart with both our initials in it. A kick me sign.”

Historia almost turned around and stripped Ymir of her sunscreen duties right then and there, had Ymir not finished first. “Dumbass. I hope you get sunburnt.” 

Ymir just laughed. “I’m immune.” 

“Where’d all those new freckles come from then?” 

“Aw, you keep track of my freckles?” 

Historia chucked the sunscreen at Ymir. “You’re impossible. Put on sunscreen.” 

Ymir unsuccessfully tried to dodge the bottle and it hit her in the shoulder. “Ow. Fine.” She complied, pouting. Historia put sunscreen on her back as well. 

“I can feel you making lines back there. I hope you’re not being hypocritical.” 

Historia grinned wickedly. “Never.” 

Ymir flung the bottle of sunscreen to the ground and stood up. “That’s it. The sun has nothing on us now. Look at the lake. It is literally waving to us.” 

The little bumps rolled across the surface of the lake, breaking only at the very edge, foam cheerily bubbling up on the sand.

Historia laughed. “Well, I could never turn down such a kind greeting.” 

“You turn down mine all the time,” said Ymir. 

“Key word: kind.” 

With that, Ymir came from behind and scooped up Historia. She staggered under Historia’s weight, yelping, letting out a string of expletives as she half-sprinted, half limped across the hot sand. Historia clung to Ymir, laughing at Ymir’s struggle, until finally, they reached the water. Ymir plunged into the water, sighing with relief as coolness washed over her burning soles. 

“Aw man,” said Historia. “I forgot to take my sunglasses off.” 

Ymir stood in the knee deep water, panting. Historia could feel her arms shaking. 

“Go back, please?” 

Ymir threw her into the water. 

A cut off yelp, a loud splash, and then for a second, silence. Ymir waited. Angry bubbles floated to the surface, followed by a soaking wet Historia. The sunglasses were nowhere to be seen. Historia shook her ears free of water and then turned around to fix Ymir with a piercing gaze. Drips of water slid off her golden hair.

“Oh no,” said Ymir. 

“Oh yes,” said Historia. “Your turn.” 

Historia charged, and Ymir was no match. They went down in a splash, a spray of water shooting up, the calmness of the lake splintered by fun. They fought with water, the droplets dancing in their faces, a side arm sending a wave toward Historia, a front push sending Ymir sputtering. They stopped a minute, standing in the waist deep lake, panting, catching their breaths only to lose it again to a laugh. 

“Let’s make a sand castle,” said Historia. 

“Ok,” said Ymir. “As long as you didn’t learn from Zeke.” 

Historia splashed her, but it was more lazy this time, a slow push of water that barely got Ymir’s chest wet. Ymir spotted the sun glinting off of shiny black plastic, and pulled out of the water Historia’s sunglasses. 

“Huh,” said Historia.

They headed out of the water, the drips leaving a trail behind them in the sand. Historia put on her sunglasses. They scouted out a place to build their masterpiece. 

Ymir sunk into the sand, shaking her head like a dog, and the sand around her turned a shade darker as she made a puddle. Historia, a half step behind her, admired the way her wet hair formed little brown spikes. She very much wanted to run her hand through it. 

Ymir looked up to Historia with a grin. She patted the sand next to her, and Historia obliged, kneeling down next to her. 

“What should we create?” 

Historia scoffed. “A castle, of course. A sand castle.” 

“Right. For your majesty.” 

The corners of Historia’s mouth quirked up. “That’s right.” She scooped a handful of wet sand and started building a wall, gently patting down the edges of the castle.

Ymir watched Historia make a corner, slowly smoothing the edges until the walls met at a perfect ninety degree angle. She was so absorbed in building. Her golden hair was quickly drying in the heat of the sun, and her blue eyes held that sparkle of determination, of purpose, and Ymir couldn’t help but smile. 

Historia glanced up. “What?” 

“You’re beautiful,” said Ymir. 

Historia scrunched her nose, shaking her head, already moving onto the fourth wall. “Go find some rocks to decorate.”

Ymir nodded solemnly. “As you wish.” She stretched out her legs, coming dangerously close to the castle in progress, prompting a quiet sound of distress from Historia, and then rolled to her feet. “Don't miss me too much." 

The beach was littered with stones, sunk deep into the sand, and Ymir started scooping up as many as she could hold. A smooth one, a round one, a shiny black one, one built of the white shells and skeletons of things that had lived long ago, one with an odd hole in the middle, one that curiously resembled the face of a monkey, all of them Ymir put in the pockets of her board shorts. She tied the drawstring tighter; she had a feeling now was not the time to be pantless. The rocks clinked in her pockets with every step she took, scaring off the seagulls pecking around for tidbits. 

She saw something glitter in the sand. A smooth glassy rock. She bent down to pick it up. It was the most gorgeous hue of blue she had ever seen. Scratch that. She knew only one shade of blue that matched its beauty. She held the rock to the sun, and the sun caught the translucent cerulean color and added a warm sparkle. 

Ymir clasped it in her hand, rubbing her thumb over that impossible smoothness, and headed back to Historia. 

Historia had been hard at work. A tower rose up from the square base, connected by a small bridge to another, smaller turret. It looked to be half finished, more walls attached to the base to create a kind of horseshoe shape. Historia was working on the top of the tower, carefully dripping sand to make the cutout shapes of battlements.

As Ymir approached, Historia stopped a second, hands still coated in sand. She grinned at Ymir. “What do you think?”

Ymir trudged forward, weighed down with her rocks. “It looks good. Are you gonna name it?” 

“I thought Utgard would be a cool name,” said Historia. 

Ymir towered over the sand creation. “Where’d that come from?” 

“Heard it in a class,” she said. “Thought it sounded cool.” She reached for another scoop of sand.

“I guess majoring in mythology has some use after all.” Ymir could have said that in whatever tone imaginable, and it still would have come off as sarcastic.

“Ha ha,” said Historia. “Good thing I found someone rich to carry me through the rest of my life.” 

Ymir looked confused. “I’m not rich.” 

“Oh, I guess that was just wishful thinking.” Historia polished off the battlement, lightly smoothing it with her index finger.

Ymir started emptying out her pockets, the rocks spilling out onto the sand next to the castle. Historia was about to tell her to back up a second when a stray rock fell out of Ymir’s hand in slow motion. The heavy stone tumbled down, catching the newly fashioned tower and sending it crashing down. Ymir looked at the damage. The tower had tumbled into a lump, the rock with its weird monkey markings grinning up at her. She glanced at Historia. Historia was staring at the remains of her hard work with a look of shock. 

“Oops,” said Ymir.

Historia turned her gaze on Ymir. Ymir met her eyes guiltily. Historia’s glare nearly seared the back of Ymir’s skull.

Ah, that shade of blue.

Ymir remembered the rock clutched in her hand. 

“Look what I found,” she said. She uncurled her fingers, and there it sat, winking in the sun, the translucent azure casting a beautiful shadow on her hand. “It’s the same shade as your eyes, Hisu.”

Historia plucked it out of Ymir’s hand and admired it, castle forgotten for the time being. She held it up to the light. “Looks like you found some treasure.”

“Darn right I did,” said Ymir, draping an arm over Historia. 

Historia’s eyes widened a second, and then she put her hand over Ymir’s. “Well then, you’d better not let go of it.”

Ymir squeezed her hand. “Never.” 

They started walking back to the blanket, hand in hand, leaving parallel divots in the sand. 

They sat on the blanket together, in the shade again, eating peaches from the basket Historia had carried, leaning against each other, watching the waves bubble up on the shore. Historia pulled open her book, and Ymir closed her eyes, drifting off into a pleasant summer sleep.


End file.
